


The Family Oboe

by Missy



Category: Galavant (TV)
Genre: Conception, F/M, Future Fic, Humor, Married Life, Post-Canon, Singing, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 03:37:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3312455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dynastic decisions were never quite this much fun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Family Oboe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HippieGeekGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HippieGeekGirl/gifts).



> Written for a Tumblr meme! This was #20: Talking About Having Kids.

The honeymoon is long and luxurious. They’ve earned it, she reasons – and she’s always wanted to see what the coasts of Andulasia look like in the heat of summer. But soon they must return to reality, come home, and face life on the throne. Settled down in their castle by the sea, living shoulder-to-shoulder with their people and governing them with even hands, she realizes out of the blue one day that there’s something they’ve forgotten. An important duty they’ve never discussed. She breaches the subject over dinner their first night back, during a midnight meal they stirred up together to avoid bothering Vincenzo.

He seems to notice her mild consternation as they nibble. Perhaps it’s because she can’t seem to stop tapping her fork against her wine glass. Or chewing her napkin. Or singing quietly about what she must do. At last her voice bursts forth, loud and clear above the din of forks rattling. “Galavant?” 

“Hmm?” He glances up. The timing isn’t right, of course, because he’s mowing down his dinner with zeal.

But she presses on. “How do you feel about the idea of…”

“Yes?”

“The notion of…”

“What, Izzy?”

“Us having children?”

A rain of mutton decorates the table. “Sore subject?” she asks, pulling her mulled wine from the line of fire. 

“No!” he says immediately. He lurches across the table and takes her hands in his. “I’ve always hoped to have children. Especially with you…”

“I should say so,” she replies.

“…But we just got back from our honeymoon, I’m still trying to find good homes for the mirrors Madalena left scattered around and I think the merchants I offended in the town square today are planning to throw tomatoes at me tomorrow.”

“Oh, that’s just how they say hello!” she smiles, squeezing his hands. “Think of the possibilities, Galavant. Oh, you’ll make a splendid, adorable…stubborn…father.” 

“And you’d make a beautiful, bossy, sometimes frightening mother.” 

Isabella rolls her eyes. Then she explains. “But we have to start as soon as possible. If something happens to one of us – ow, that’s my hand…” she pulls it free of his grip and brushes his cheek, gently. “My cousin will inherit the kingdom, and I didn’t spend six months cooped up in a doll box plotting my escape for nothing.”

“So what you’re suggesting is…”

She grabs him by his collar. “We do what I did when I escaped from my cousin – go to our bedroom and tear up the sheets.”

“Well I won’t turn that down…Oh god, do you hear an oboe?”

Before he knows how to head off the rhythm, his wife is dancing about the table, pulling him to stand, trying to explain the importance of continuing their dynasty. Gal keeps pace. And discovers that it’s tough to find a rhyme for ‘monastic’. She crosses her eyes as he belts out ‘molastic’….”

He freezes. “Moletastic? I’ll get it…”

“Elastic,” she warbles, pulling him closer. 

The dance goes on, some soft thrumming of fiddle and drum in harmony, but the singers remain happily and comfortably muffled til well past candletime.

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction uses characters from **Galavant** , all of whom are the property of **ABC**. No money was earned from the writing of this piece of fanfiction, and the author makes no legal claim upon the characters within.


End file.
